One Night
by isabella2004
Summary: The first night Ben Stone and Evelyn Burns lay eyes on each other.


**In Chapter 3 of my story _Perceptions, _I wrote a very brief flashback scene from Ben's point of view recalling the first time he had met Evelyn. Now that my stories are finished, I thought I'd revisit that moment from Evelyn's point of view. **

**June 1991**

She didn't really want to go to the bar dinner.

It had been a long, tough week at work and she would have preferred to simply curl up on the couch in front of the television with a glass of wine and some takeout. Edward hadn't been pleased when she had mentioned this idea though and when she had suggested that he could simply go on his own he had grown angry, telling her that it would only make people talk and for heaven's sake couldn't she at least _try_ to be sociable sometimes.

She could have argued back, could have fought her corner, but she knew the fallout from not going would most likely be worse than simply going in the first place and, right at that moment in time, all she wanted was a quiet, calm weekend, not one filled with her husband stomping around the apartment and shouting at her. So she had dressed herself in a dark blue number that she hadn't worn for a while, curled her hair and freshened up her makeup and he had seemed suitably pleased with her efforts. As they had ridden the elevator down to the lobby of their building where the cab was waiting, she had found herself critically eying herself in the mirrored wall, hoping that Edward's insistence of having what she could only describe as a quick, emotionless fuck before they left hadn't caused a run in her pantyhose.

He kept his hand on her knee all the way through the evening traffic and when they finally arrived at their destination, his hand stayed on the small of her back as he guided her inside, possessively indicating to anyone who might dare to consider looking at her that she was most certainly unavailable.

"I hope that bastard's here," Edward muttered, lifting two glasses of champagne from the nearest waitress's tray and handing one to her. "I've a few things I want to say to him."

"Who?" she asked, sipping the crisp liquid and glancing around for any sign of a familiar, friendly face that she could attempt to engage in conversation.

"Stone. Arrogant son-of-a-bitch. He can't accept he lost this case so he's hell bent on causing as much trouble as possible. Do you know he sent two detectives over to Parker & Jones yesterday? I mean, it's ridiculous. The man has no boundaries."

She felt herself tuning out his diatribe. The case had been all he had been able to talk about for the last few weeks, a white collar fraud trial from which her husband had emerged victorious and the Executive Assistant District Attorney he had been up against soundly defeated. She knew that if she had to hear him crow about the fact the jury had only been out for an hour one more time...

"There he is," Edward grabbed her arm suddenly, pulling her tightly into him, almost causing her to spill the contents of her glass and propelling her across the room. "Follow my lead."

"But..." she started to protest, but his hand tightened on her skin and she reluctantly, yet dutifully, slid hers around his waist and followed where he was insisting on taking her. They crossed the room quickly, moving past various people that she would have spoken to had she had the opportunity, only to emerge in front of the mens' restroom as the man her husband was so fixated on suddenly appeared.

"Ben, good to see you," Edward greeted him with an abundance of faux sincerity. "I didn't know you were going to be here tonight."

The other's man expression remained neutral and as she looked at him, he met her gaze briefly before turning back to her husband. "Likewise," he replied flatly, clearly incapable of, or unwilling to, even attempt pleasantry.

She felt Edward's hand suddenly dig into her back and knew he was expecting her to shine. "This is my wife, Evelyn. Darling, this is Ben Stone."

"Pleased to meet you," she said, giving him the best smile she could muster under the circumstances.

He met her gaze again and smiled politely yet disinterestedly, "And you."

"I hear you had your detectives talk to my witness the other day," Edward's voice hardened. "You do realise the case is closed, right?"

To his credit, Stone remained impassive. "Just tying up some loose ends."

"Well, unless I missed a recent ruling, double jeopardy applies here and my client is free to go about his legitimate business. So, unless you have some sort of warrant or subpoena, I'd suggest you leave him and his colleagues alone."

She kept her eyes on Stone throughout the exchange, holding her breath wondering, almost hoping that he would retaliate somehow, put Edward in his place. Despite never having met him before, or having occasion to face him in court, she knew of his reputation, his skill as an orator, his passion for justice. He was also renowned for being something of a gentleman and, true to form, he simply said nothing.

Edward suddenly smiled down at her, "We should get going." His hand dug into her back again and it was all she could do to offer Stone another smile before Edward manoeuvred her away back into the crowd. "He'd better watch his step," he said angrily. "Sanctimonious prick."

The evening passed in familiar monotony. Drinks, dinner, speeches, more drinks...as midnight approached she could feel a headache starting behind her eyes and the balls of her feet were burning from the shoes he had told her to wear. She felt exhausted, burnt out, like the end of a candle just before it gives up and goes dark. Escaping from Edward's side for a moment, she found herself out in the lobby, the breeze from the air conditioning a welcome sensation on her skin after the stifled air of the ballroom. Catching sight of a pair of plush armchairs in a corner near the cloakroom, she gratefully sank into one and eased off her shoes, the feeling of relief almost instantaneous. Resting her head back and sighing heavily, she thought about their plans for the weekend ahead. Edward intended playing golf on Saturday and she would be expected to show up at the clubhouse later in the afternoon with the other wives to drink and socialise and tread that line between looking her best whilst also looking as though she had made no effort at all. Sunday they were due to have lunch with her mother, though she was fairly certain her husband would find some excuse to cancel. Or maybe she would, depending on Saturday went.

Thirty-eight years old and in charge of nothing in her own life.

_Why do I live like this?_

As she sat fighting the onslaught of fatigue, two figures caught her eye heading for the door a few feet away. As they turned to speak to each other she recognised one as being Stone whilst the other, a younger black male, she could only assume was his assistant Paul Robinette, someone else Edward had been less than complimentary about during the trial, referring to him rather poorly as Stone's 'slave.'

Part of her wanted to go over and talk to them, apologise on her husband's behalf for his behaviour and almost beg them not to judge _her_ too harshly because of her association with him. But the bigger, more sensible part of her knew that it would be a terrible idea. If Edward were to find out that she had done anything to undermine him in any way...

They both made their way to the door, Stone holding it open for his companion, his eyes flitting briefly to her as he did so, but holding no recognition from their earlier introduction. Before she could even draw breath, he was gone.

"What are you doing out here?" Edward's voice, laced with irritation, suddenly reached her ears and she turned to see him striding towards her from the direction of the ballroom.

"Just resting my feet," she replied, sitting forwards. "It's getting late. Can we go yet?"

"No," he replied stubbornly. "Not yet. Come on, get up. I need you in there with me."

He held out his hand in a gesture that for all the world might look caring, and yet she knew was anything but. As she got to her feet and her fingers slid around his, he crushed them tightly and leaned in close to her, his breath acrid with the smell of alcohol. "Don't ever leave me like that again, Evelyn, do you hear me?"

"Yes," she said, glancing back to the hotel door. "Yes I hear you."

"And?" he narrowed his eyes.

"And I won't," she smiled as best she could. "I promise I won't."


End file.
